


Sunday Afternoon

by anemptymargin



Series: Journey-Verse [7]
Category: Psych
Genre: Cross-Generation Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-26
Updated: 2012-03-26
Packaged: 2017-11-02 13:48:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,305
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/369659
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anemptymargin/pseuds/anemptymargin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Henry and Carlton’s Sunday afternoon.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sunday Afternoon

**Author's Note:**

> Flashfic, written in just over an hour and a half and unbeta’d. Not really happy with the smut, but that’s why I’m doing the exercises. I’ll get my mojo back, I swear.

Sunday afternoon, the game was on and the scent of gun oil and pork in the smoker filled the Spencer house. Carlton let out a pleased grunt when he pulled the slide back on the .45 with a satisfying snap of well-oiled metal.  “Mmm, that’s the sweet spot, baby. Daddy likes…”

 

Henry smirked from his recliner and turned the page of his paper; “Hey, when ‘daddy’s done playing with my sidearm it better make it back in the safe.”

 

“See, that’s your problem, Henry. You can’t keep a sweet piece like this locked up all the time… she needs love and attention… proper maintenance more than once a year.”

 

He rolled his eyes and looked over to where Carlton was gently putting away the cleaning kit, rather enjoying the sight of him stripped down to his undershirt and shorts sitting cross-legged on the living room floor with a large cleaning cloth stretched out in front of him. “That’s why I have you. You clean my gun and I make you pie – it’s an even trade.”

 

“I don’t know why you don’t like doing it;” Lassiter shrugged, “I mean, you do a good job but your heart just isn’t in it.”

 

“Carlton,” Henry sighed, rolling his eyes; “I’m sure you and your collection will spend many blissful years together.”

 

“Me too.” He grinned wide, the frustration going way over his head.

 

Henry waited a moment, but when it was clear his partner wasn’t going to get the hint he let it go. “You wanna check the temp on that pork for me after you clean up?”

 

“Sure thing, Papa Bear.” Carlton groaned, getting up off the floor and stretching out his limbs; “I’m sure we’ve still got at least a couple hours on the smoker if you want to… you know…”

 

A slow smile tugged at the corners of Henry’s mouth; “What’re you suggesting? Heading upstairs for a little afternoon delight?”

 

“In the form of a perfectly quiet Sunday nap, yes.”

 

The smile faded; “You realize that you’re impossible, right?”

 

“What? You’re suggesting something else at two o’clock on a Sunday because I can’t think of any better way…” Carlton paused mid-thought, realization dawning on him; “oooh… you mean ‘upstairs’ like having sex upstairs.”

 

“Yeah,” Henry replied dryly, folding the paper closed and taking off his reading glasses. “Never mind.”

 

“It’s only two o’clock. Normally we don’t go that way until after dinner.” He shrugged helplessly, “It’s our routine; put on the game, read the paper and work case files while something gets smoked out back, afternoon nap, dinner, pie, and then we go upstairs.”

 

“Which is why it’s fun and different to suggest it now.” Henry sighed and shook his head, “Forget it, just check the pork – I’m gonna go lay down.”

 

Lassiter frowned, reaching out for Henry when he tried to pass by and pulling him close. “I never said it wasn’t an interesting proposition…”

 

“Yeah, mood killed by the reminder that our sex life is scheduled.”

 

“There’s nothing wrong with our schedule, it’s a good schedule…”

 

He rolled his eyes again; “Maybe a little spontaneity would be nice…” A mischievous grin curled the corners of his lips and he whispered; “…remember when we were on the road...”

 

“Hey, that’s not fair… I was under the influence of a gun show. You know how I get around gun oil and leather…”

 

“I do know.” Henry’s whisper took on a much less innocent purr; “And we’ve got at least one of those components right now…”

 

“It’d be two if you wore the western wear I got you…” Carlton grinned, wrapping his arms around Henry’s waist.

 

Holding back a laugh, Henry managed; “I told you, I’m definitely not gay enough to wear chaps.”

 

“Chaps aren’t gay, they’re for cowboys.”

 

“And gay bars in the eighties.”

 

“You would know…” Carlton teased,  moving one hand to tug at the front of Henry’s Tommy Bahama hibiscus print until the top button came open.

 

“Are you trying to keep me interested in sex by implying I was a manwhore in the eighties?”

 

“Is it working?” He raised an eyebrow, sliding his hand lower to work open the wooden buttons.

 

Henry shook his head, a slight pink blush creeping over the top of his head, it wasn’t… wasn’t hurting either, but that was only because he’d gotten used to proximity being a physical cue. “Shutting up might be a better idea.”

 

“I can do shutting up.” Carlton leaned in, kissing him gently as the last four buttons came open without much effort. When he felt the push of Henry’s hands past the waistband of his khaki shorts he broke away with a nervous laugh. “Upstairs?”

 

A dumb grin plastered on his face, Henry shook his head again; “Downstairs.” He pushed down the tight shorts without warning, eliciting an expected yelp.

 

“Damnit, Henry! It’s broad daylight, come on… anyone could be walking by… the curtains are open…”

 

Pushing him, Henry maneuvered Carlton until his back was to the window; “There… anyone who wants to peep in my windows deserves to see your pasty ass.”

 

“Hey!”

 

“What? I like it. It’s… not bad.” Henry muttered, kissing him again.

 

“You know how I…” Carlton’s protests were cut off by the only marginally sudden sensation of Henry sinking to his knees and kissing his thighs. “Don’t… damn it, Henry…”

 

“Relax,” he sighed and kissed his way over the exposed flesh before nosing up to his rising length. He smiled, feeling the familiar scrape of blunted nails on his scalp – urging him to continue regardless. “You love it.”

 

“And you.” Carlton murmured, his bare toes curling against the floor when Henry’s lips brushed over his cock. “God…”

 

Henry chuckled; “Don’t flatter me yet.” He rolled his tongue over the soft flesh, enjoying the sensation of every ridge and hair as he teased him up hard.

 

“You deserve every… mmm… there…” his back straightened and Carlton let out a guttural moan, his eyes rolling back in his skull.

 

Grinning wide, the older man hooked his hands on his lover’s hips – taking him in slowly. It took control, a firm hand and a willingness to take an occasional twisted ear… but it was worth it to hear the low pitched whimper with each hard swallow and stalled thrust.

 

“Ah – ah – ah… Henry…” His fingers twitched, tracing across the fine hairs at the back of Henry’s head down to his jaw. “Right there… don’t stop…”

 

He never did, but it was good to know he was on the right track. Digging into his hips even harder, Henry braced himself for Carlton’s slow, deep thrusts.

 

“Now.” Carlton’s fingers tightened on Henry’s ears, tugging harder as he danced deliriously close to the edge; “Now… now…”

 

Henry heard the hollow whine and gasp over the rush of blood. And then, as quickly as he’d started, it was over.  Carlton buried himself deep, rocking his hips with gentle, jerking thrusts as he came. He pulled himself up quickly, wrapping his arms around Carlton’s wide chest, pressing soft kisses to his unshaven cheek. “Not so bad…” he murmured, nipping at the soft flesh below his ear.

 

“Not done with you yet,” Carlton groaned, his hands pushing inside Henry’s open shirt to find the skin below. “Gotta make up for it…”

 

“Stop it.” Henry chastised, kissing him again. “You’re always fast when I do that.”

 

“Okay, let’s not ever mention that again…” He squeezed tight at Henry’s waist; “and maybe talk about something else.”

 

“Mmm, I like something else…”

 

“Like what I’m gonna do to you?” Carlton asked with a slight smile that few ever the chance to see. “Because I’m thinking upstairs…”

 

Henry pulled away slightly, looking him in the face with a bemused smirk; “And I’m thinking a nap and then some pulled pork…”

 

“After…”

 

“Before.”

 

“Hey… what about…”

 

“Maybe after some pie.”

**Author's Note:**

> This is a work of fictional parody in no way intended to infringe upon the rights of any individual or corporate entity. Any and all characters or celebrity personae belong to their rightful owners. Absolutely no money has or will be gained from this work. Please do not publicly link, repost or redistribute without letting me know first.


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